Edgeworth himself formed the point of the wedge.
"Freshies in the center!" he bawled back lustily.
As the High School crowd rushed around the corner, giving their
vocal chords full play, Dick and his chums were hustled inside
of the inverted "V" formation.
It was a human battering ram that launched itself into the
lane---filling that narrow passage, choking it.
One of the bank robbers was still on the lookout duty. At the
first sound he had drawn his revolver, prepared to shoot right
and left. But this avalanche of torsos, arms and legs was more
than the fellow had bargained for.
If it be true that a community can't be indicted, then it is still
truer that a community can't be murdered. The armed rascal gasped
at the magnitude of his task of defense.
In another second he had been bowled clean over off his feet,
and a half a dozen seniors were reaching for his weapon.
As Dick Prescott and his chums got out of the wedge they made
a dash for the automobile.
At that same instant the air bore to them the battle-yell of juniors
and sophs at the front of the bank.
The rear door of the building was yanked hastily open. Two masked
men shot the rays of their bulls-eye lanterns out into the lane,
while their right hands held revolvers.
Bang-bang! Bang-bang!
The rear door slammed, the robbers retreating behind that barrier.
In the first moment the High School boys themselves were a good
deal startled, though they didn't make any effort to run.
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